


Betrayal

by PicassoPickle



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, M/M, Romance, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:39:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PicassoPickle/pseuds/PicassoPickle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James is sent undercover in the city of Los Santos to infiltrate the infamous Fake AH Crew. He is given a new persona: Ryan "Vagabond" Haywood. However things do not go according to plan when he is pulled into a chaotic relationship with five other men. Now he is forced to choose whether to betray the first people he has allowed himself to call friends, or to become a full time criminal, robbing banks as a living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey James, Burnie wants you in his office, pronto.”

James looked up from his desk tiredly, only having gained a few hours of sleep the night before due to his chronic insomnia. Dragging himself up from his chair, he trundled to his boss’s office and briefly knocked on the open door. Burnie looked up and sent him a wide grin. Already he felt nervous.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”

“Oh cut with the crap, James, you don’t need to call me sir. Haven’t we been through this before?” Burnie straightened his tie and gestured for James to take a seat before him. James obliged and lowered himself to the seat, looking around nervously.

“Sorry… Burnie,” The name sounded foreign on his tongue, “But what is it that you wanted?”

“Let’s cut straight to business, shall we? Tell me what you know about the Fake AH Crew.” 

James tilted his head in curiosity, “The Los Santos gang? Well, I know they are devised mainly of five men, with their ring leader being a certain Geoff Ramsey. They are the web in the center of the city, with contacts everywhere. They always know when they’ve been tipped off and evade the cops with ease. Did a particularly nasty bank heist a few months back, running away with millions of dollars. They’re nutcases. Why are you asking me this when they operate in Los Santos? They haven’t come onto our patch, have they?”

“Oh, no. They haven’t stepped foot in Liberty City for a while now, thank God. Those bastards could drain our banks in hours. No, nothing like that. I do, however, have a rather interesting proposition for you, if you are willing to take it.” Burnie clasped his hands together, watching James intently.

“Er, what sort of proposition?” James shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as Burnie relished watching him squirm.

“I have been into contact with the LSPD for several months, and it appears they need our help catching these crooks for good. The Fake AH Crew are slippery little assholes who always manage to get away. The LSPD and I have agreed we need an inside man,” Burnie looked at James pointedly, “Someone who can get close to them, someone who can tip us off on every location they’ll be at. We can intercept their trades and work out all of their safe houses. They-“

“Hold on,” James cut off, “Are you saying that you want _me_ to be the inside man? I’m not sure how I could possibly gain their trust like that.”

Burnie cracked a smile and leaned forward in his chair, “Y’see, James, you’re a good guy. You have a lot of useful skills that can be transferred to a crew such as them. You’re the best shot in our team and I’ve seen you fly helicopters like a pro. You can be a valuable asset to them. The hardest part will be getting in, but after that, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

James quirked his eyebrow, “And why not a detective from Los Santos? Or a trained undercover agent? I have never been in the field like this before. I don’t have any training whatsoever for being an undercover cop.”

“A good question, something we discussed with the LSPD. Anyone from Los Santos could be easily recognised – the Fake AH crew is a large network of people from across the city. A cop from the LSPD will be traced back almost immediately. Liberty City, on the other hand, we’re thousands of miles away.”

“And why not an undercover agent from outside Los Santos?” James pressed.

“You know the crew, I know you in particular have a certain fascination with how well they work. Don’t think I don’t see you reading every article under the sun about their involvement in crimes in Los Santos. You’re perfect for the job, James.”

“With no training whatsoever? You’re going to plunge me in the deep end?” James couldn’t tell whether he felt excited or terrified.

“I’ve seen you in the field, James, and you work well under pressure. I wouldn’t be asking you if I didn’t know you could do it.”

James still wasn’t sure how to take in this new information. He had been working for the LCPD for eleven years and an opportunity like this had never arisen before. He had never been trained in undercover work, and the thought both thrilled and petrified him. 

“And how do you expect me to become a team member?” James finally asked, wondering how he could even get close to the Fake AH Crew.

“This is the fun part, James. They already _know_ about you.”

Shaking his head, James said, “I don’t understand?”

Burnie pulled a drawer to his desk open and pulled out a few newspapers from the Los Santos Meteor. James leaned forward to read the headlines. Many of them were of a newcomer in the city, nicknamed the “Vagabond”. There were a couple of amateur photos of a man wearing a leather jacket in a black skull mask.

“The Vagabond?” James frowned, wondering where Burnie was going with this.

“Heard of him?”

“Of course.”

“Well, y’see James, there is no “Vagabond” in a mask. The LSPD created his persona for this role, and has been feeding the media false information. All these photos and news reports are fake. He doesn’t exist.”

“Wait, he isn’t real?” James blinked, trying to recall the articles he’d browsed through on the lazy days. There had been few photos of the culprit, and he always wore the same mask.

“Nope. Which means you already have a pretty big reputation in Los Santos if you took this. The Fake AH Crew will practically be _begging_ to join their team.”

James’ mind reeled. The logical side of his brain told him to thank Burnie for the offer and he would think about it, but the more impulsive side was urging him to agree there and then, the quicker the better. His heart thrummed with excitement at the sheer idea of becoming an undercover agent. He had joined the force for the thrill of catching criminals, and now to become one of them? James couldn’t say he wasn’t tempted.

“What will my name be?” James finally asked, after mulling over his thoughts for several seconds.

Burnie dug into his drawer again, bringing out a plastic wallet with various documents, including a passport and a birth certificate. Burnie took the passport out of the wallet and passed it to James, who flicked it open. There was no photo, only the name: _Ryan Haywood_ , along with his date of birth.

“It’s only a prototype. If you accept, we’ll print out new documents with your photo. We’ve kept it a blank slate for now as to who you were in the past; you probably shouldn’t need to disclose any personal information to the crew. Besides, the magic of this is that you are a mystery. For all they know, Haywood could be a fake name as well. I’m sure half of their crew have aliases.” 

“Ryan Haywood,” James tried the name, and nodded, “Seems good to me. And how do you expect me to make contact with the Fake AH Crew if I take this job?”

“You’ve been to Los Santos, James. The place thrives on crime. We have a rat within the Fake AH Crew but we want to try and keep your contact to the minimum, however if you find you can’t get their attention, give Caleb a buzz.”

There was a long pause as James stared down at the passport in his hand. He hadn’t taken a holiday in months and the cold weather of Liberty City was starting to grate on the born-and-bred Georgian. 

“So what d’ya think, _Ryan_?” Burnie asked.

James narrowed his eyes and met Burnie’s gaze. There was a knowing smirk on his face. Damnit, that bastard knew he was going to accept. 

“You sneaky fuck,” James growled, “I’ll do it.”

  


* * *

  


James – or Ryan as he was now being addressed – was briefed by Burnie and several undercover specialists on what he was going to go through. They warned him of the stress this job could cause, and advised that he pull out if he found himself exhibiting a number of negative symptoms. He was given a new cell phone with a new list of contacts, including Burnie, an LSPD detective and the rat in the Fake AH Crew.

A plane was booked the following day to take him to Los Santos. Burnie drove him to the airport and Ryan could already feel the nerves getting to him.

“You can pull out at any time,” Burnie said calmly as he parked outside the airport, “If things start getting too dangerous, contact one of us. You should have a meeting with the LSPD detective in a few weeks to talk about your progress.”

Ryan took a deep breath to calm himself, “Got it.”

“You nervous?” Burnie asked and Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Of course I’m nervous, but I’ll be fine. I’ll treat it as a holiday – I’ve been craving the Los Santos sun for a while now.”

Burnie chuckled and watched as Ryan got out of the car and collected his luggage from the trunk. Winding down the window, he called, “Be careful, Haywood. They’re a bunch of nutcases down there.”

Ryan mock-saluted, before turning and heading into the airport.

Check-in was easy, and within the hour he was on the plane ready to take-off. It was strange to leave his old life behind him for a few months.

He had no one to miss him back in Liberty City; he had lived a very quiet life in a small apartment. His life was devoted to his work, working up the ranks. Ryan couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gone on a date.

The flight took six hours, which was plenty long enough for Ryan, who wasn’t all that fond of being stuck on a plane surrounded by others in a cramped space.

After the plane had landed, Ryan collected his luggage and went to the taxi rank. He was overwhelmed by the rush of heat that hit him like a ton of bricks when he exited the comfortably air conditioned terminal. He immediately shrugged off the jacket he’d worn on the flight and entered the nearest cab, repeating the address he’d been given for his new apartment to the driver.

Ryan had been to Los Santos a handful of times, and had always found it a beautiful city. Liberty City, in contrast, was far busier and metropolitan. As the cab drove him away from the airport, Ryan looked out the city at the beauty of the city. It was full of vibrant colours, unlike the dull concrete and asphalt in Liberty City. After a fifteen minute drive, the taxi pulled up outside his apartment block, and Ryan paid the driver and exited the cab.

His apartment was on the seventh floor of a fairly large apartment complex. As Ryan entered his new abode, he was impressed. It was significantly larger than his old apartment, and it had a fantastic view of the glistening ocean. With two bedrooms, a living area, dining room, kitchen and bathroom, Ryan found he almost had _too_ much space.

The black skull mask lay on the kitchen counter, along with an array of guns, and Ryan whistled with astonishment. He had loved going shooting for as long as he could remember, and guns had always excited him. The final thing on the counter was a bag of cash, presumably with thousands of dollars inside. It would look odd to a crew if Ryan hadn’t attained a large amount of money from his prolific heists these past few months. 

Ryan picked up the mask, turning it over in his hands. It was pretty robust, and he slipped it over his head and went to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. 

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, impressed with how decidedly evil he looked. He wondered whose idea it was to use this particular mask.

Ryan took the mask off and wandered back into the kitchen. He turned his phone over in his hands, wondering how he could come into contact with the notorious Fake AH Crew. 

Sitting down, Ryan was deliberated calling the rat in the crew to get him an easy pass. He scrolled through his contacts until he found the name – Caleb – and his thumb hovered over the dial button. However, he decided against it. He would only call Caleb as a last resort. Ryan didn’t want to place any unnecessary attention on the rat.

“Need some time to settle in first,” Ryan muttered. 

Burnie was in his contact list but under the name ‘Michael’ and there was also an LSPD contact. Ryan was under strict instructions not to be contacted by them for at least two weeks. Right now, Ryan is a criminal, and he needed to act like one. This meant no phone calls with the police force.

Ryan felt at a loss as to what to do. He didn’t want to go out and commit crimes to draw attention to himself – however he had not been specifically instructed _not_ to go on murder sprees. Ryan let out a deep chuckle at the thought of going out with an Assault SMG and killing random civilians. Burnie would have a heart attack.

No, he would need to find another way to get into contact with the Fake AH Crew. All he needed to do is work out how.

  


* * *

  


Three days since Ryan’s arrival and he came into contact with the Funhaus gang – a bunch of seven incompetent, unskilful men who couldn’t tell their heads from their asses.

Ryan had ventured to a rougher area of Los Santos, wearing his notorious skull mask and carrying an SMG. It was dark and he kept to the shadows. He had nothing to fear if someone called the cops on him; apart from perhaps a slap on the wrists for getting noticed so easily.

It was a stroke of luck that Ryan had stumbled across a textbook robbery at a local convenience store. There was a getaway vehicle with tinted windows, and Ryan kept hidden as he watched the ordeal. Two men were inside the store, pointing their guns at the cashier, whilst another two were in the front seat of the car.

Ryan already knew this wasn’t the Fake AH Crew from their appearances, but he was still hopeful in obtaining more contacts around the city. 

The two men ran out of the store holding the bag of cash, and Ryan rolled his eyes at their amateurish robbery. They weren’t even wearing masks and none of them had bothered to take out the CCTV that were currently capturing their faces. 

Ryan went around the corner to grab his car and waited a few seconds for them to pull out of the parking lot and drive away. It wasn’t difficult to follow them and soon they were pulling up at an apartment block a few miles away from the convenience store.

Unbuckling, Ryan stepped out of the car just as they were heading into the building, making sure to stay unnoticed by the gang. They seemed completely unaware of Ryan following them as they laughed and joked with each other, holding the bag of cash for the whole world to see. It was almost laughable to see how careless they were being about the ordeal.

Ryan walked into the foyer just as the elevator doors were closing, and he managed to catch a glance at the number they had pressed. Calling the second elevator, Ryan pressed the same number and let himself be taken up to the fourteenth level. It didn’t take a genius to work out which apartment the gang were in, considering the amount of raucous laughter coming from behind one particular door.

Clearing his throat, Ryan knocked on the door. The noise died down and he could hear hushed whispers, before footsteps.

The door opened a crack, revealing a man with a rugged beard. He stared in horror at Ryan, and boy Ryan wasn’t used to the amount of fear his mask mustered.

“Oh fuck!” The guy exclaimed and desperately tried to shut the door, but Ryan’s reactions were quicker. He slammed his foot into the crack of the door and pressed his hand up against the wood.

“I’m not here to threaten or harm you,” Ryan said calmly, “But I couldn’t help but notice you just robbed a convenience store. May I come in?”

The man looked terrified, and he looked over his shoulder at the others, before opening the door.

“Are you here to take the money? Because we just got that!” One of the guys exclaimed, and Ryan sighed.

“It’s not even much money. What does the Vagabond want with a couple hundred dollars? It was just a bit of fun.”

“So you’ve heard of me, then?” Ryan drawled, looking between the men. There had been four at the convenience store, but within the apartment there were seven men. A few had their weapons trained on him, a few had twitching fingers inching towards their guns. Ryan raised his hands in a surrender, ignoring the pounding in his chest.

“Who _hasn’t_ heard of you? You’re all over the damn news!”

“Well then, I suppose I’d better properly introduce myself. I’m Ryan,” Ryan extended a hand to the one who had opened the door, and the man looked at him suspiciously, before taking it.

“Adam. They’re Joel, Bruce, James, Lawrence, Sean and Matt.”

Ryan nodded, although his ability to remember names was poor, “And you’re a gang?”

“Well I wouldn’t call ourselves the Fake AH Crew, but we like to dabble in the criminal underworld,” Adam replied, gesturing for everyone to move into the living area. Ryan followed them, placing his SMG on the coffee table. The others slowly began to lower their weapons.

“So what would you call yourselves?”

“We’re, uh, we’re Funhaus.”

Ryan refrained from face palming at the ridiculous name, “Well as you probably know, I’m new around here. I may be gaining a lot of media attention, but that doesn’t mean I have many allies around the city. You guys seemed to be a good start.”

Adam looked surprised, and he glanced at the others, “You want to be a contact? Like, you’d help us out and stuff?”

Ryan shrugged, “Whatever you want. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. It’s not always easy working alone in the city, and if I ever want to pull off something bigger, then I’ll know I have you seven. And vice versa. I couldn’t help but notice you guys looked amateurish at the store. Perhaps a little expertise wouldn’t go amiss.”

Ryan smirked behind his mask at his sheer self-importance. He was slipping into the role of criminal very easily, and perhaps he had his acting classes in college to thank for that. Not only that, but he was enjoying this.

Adam nervously scratched his beard before nodding, “Sure. Sounds like a sweet deal to me.”

Ryan nodded, scribbling his phone number onto a pad of paper. They engaged contact details quickly before Ryan stood.

“One more thing before I go,” Ryan said, “You don’t happen to have a contact for the Fake AH Crew, do you?”

Adam tilted his head, “They practically run this city, of course we’re allies with them. If not, they’d have blown us to bits months ago. How have _you_ not had a run in with them yet?”

“I am rather inconspicuous. Either way, do you think you could send a message to Ramsey?” Ryan nervously chewed his lip behind his mask, wondering whether this would be his way into the Fake AH Crew.

Adam shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Sure. What do you want me to tell him?”

“Tell him I’ll meet him at the pier tomorrow at 3am.”

With that, Ryan left the apartment with a fresh new contact and a meeting with the crew.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kind reviews so far!

The next day Ryan was a bag of nerves. He had the entire day to worry about his meeting with Ramsey and the rest of the crew. Ryan chose to wander the streets of Los Santos to calm his nerves, but there was only so much walking he could do before his thoughts were plagued with ‘what ifs’. 

Day turned to night, and Ryan changed into his leather jacket and skull mask. He was wary of how the crew would approach him. The Funhaus gang had been surprised Ramsey hadn’t made contact with him yet, and it was possible they’d be pissed with him causing ruckus in a city without permission from the biggest gang around. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and swallowed thickly. It was another hour before he would meet with the infamous crew and his heart was racing.

It was perhaps the slowest hour of Ryan’s life. He had no one to speak to about the predicament and he suddenly felt terribly alone in the city. Ramsey could all too easily pull a gun on him and hide the body; and the thought made Ryan sick to the stomach. What if the crew could see through his carefully devised disguise and know he was an undercover cop? He reckoned a shot to the head would be all too quick and painless for a rat in the system.

The clock approached 3am and Ryan left his apartment and got into his car, before making his way to the pier. The rides had been shut for the night, with all the sparkling lights turned off, plunging the pier into darkness. There were a few drunken people loitering on the sidewalk, trying to get rides from cabs without throwing up. Ryan parked down a side street before making his way to the pier. It was a clear night, with the moon casting a bright reflection on the dark water.

Ryan had brought his SMG with him, his fingers twitching nervously at every sudden noise he heard. He finally reached the end of the pier and found that the crew hadn’t arrived yet. Gazing out at the ocean, Ryan wouldn’t even be surprised if they made their dramatic entrance via a boat. He leaned against the railing, trying to calm his breathing. If he wanted to convince Ramsey he was an experienced criminal, he had to act like one.

Ha, and his parents told him his acting lessons would get him nowhere.

A rev of an engine made Ryan turn away from the water to look at a car speeding towards him. They must have narrowly avoided the barriers blocking off cars from the pier. Rolling his eyes, Ryan kept a tight grip on his gun, worried they had ill intentions.

The car came skidding to a halt, and five men squeezed out, all carrying hefty weapons.

Ryan immediately recognised Ramsey as the one with the impressive moustache. He stood in front, leading the men towards him. He was dressed in a suit and bow tie, a trademark outfit for the ringleader. 

The second man beside Ramsey was of significantly larger build with a ginger beard. Ryan figured this was Jack Pattillo, Ramsey’s right-hand man. The media could rarely get information on him, and usually focused on Geoff Ramsey himself.

The other three looked slightly younger. One wore thick black-rimmed glasses with a purple hoodie and a beanie. The other had unkempt curly hair and was wearing a brown jacket, and the third had a ridiculously large nose and was wearing sunglasses… at _night-time_. 

“So we _finally_ meet the Vagabond!” Geoff drawled, coming to a stop a few meters away from Ryan. He watched Geoff warily, refraining from training his gun on the ringleader. 

“You’re a hard man to find,” Jack added, not loosening his grip on the gun he had pointed directly at Ryan.

“Well, I like to cover my tracks,” Ryan replied, looking between them all. It was strange to see them look so _normal_. He’d seen photos and CCTV images of them in the news, but they had always been caught in the middle of the action, taken from a point of view that made the crew look as criminal as possible; often pointing guns on cops and covered in blood and grime. In contrast, Ryan stood before people he wouldn’t look twice at on the street. 

“I like your work,” Purple-hoodie guy spoke out, “I’ve heard you’re the best shot in the city. I mean, I’d like to challenge you to that, but good work man.”

Ryan smiled, surprised at his civility, “Thanks…”

“Ray. I’m Ray. _Used_ to be the best shot in the city, ‘til you showed up,” Ray was smiling, and Ryan found himself smiling back, however they couldn’t see his expression from behind the mask. Ray probably was still the best shot in the city; Burnie and the LSPD had gone to town on highlighting his shooting skills. Ryan reckoned Burnie put too much faith into how good a shot Ryan really was.

“Great, introductions,” Geoff grumbled, “Well you should know me, I’d be disappointed if you don’t. This is Jack, Gavin is the idiot with the big nose and Michael is next to him. Do you have a name, or are you going to be equally secretive with that as well?”

Ryan let out a deep laugh, “No, I’m Ryan. Ryan Haywood.” He was still getting used to the fake name, and it would be even harder once people started addressing him by it. 

“Nice to meet you Ryan Ryan Haywood!” Gavin called, and Ryan noted his British accent. He was the only one not holding a gun, and Ryan wondered whether this was because he couldn’t be trusted, or he didn’t think Ryan would pull any funny business. 

Geoff rolled his eyes at the lad, before turning back to the Vagabond, “So, Haywood. What d’ya want?”

Ryan shrugged, “You practically run the city and I haven’t met you yet. Thought it was only polite to know each other.” _Act casual, act casual._

Geoff narrowed his eyes, “You mean you’ve been running around on my turf for months and never thought to ask if it was okay with us? What changed your mind?”

It was clear Geoff wasn’t so easily trusting as Ray or Gavin. He had his arms folded and was frowning at Ryan, probably ready to give the orders to shoot and throw him over the side of the pier. Ryan swallowed nervously, but was careful not to show any hesitance.

“Life’s been busy. I’m sure you understand how easy it is to get caught up in this kind of life.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Geoff ground out, and Ryan was almost enjoying winding him up, even though it was probably a big mistake to make.

“I’ve been told that once or twice…” Ryan replied with a cheeky grin.

“Hey I like this guy,” Gavin piped up, “He’s making Geoff go all red and angry!”

The crew were certainly different to how Ryan imagined they were going to be. He expected a bloodthirsty gang in the heart of Los Santos to be serious and stoic, but here they were joking with him and smiling. Ryan felt confused; how could these normal looking men shoot innocent civilians without a second thought? What had driven them to this kind of life? He gazed at the five men before him, watching as they exchanged nudges and jokes between one another. 

“Can we keep him?” Ray piped up, and Jack snorted with laughter.

“I think you’re going to give Geoff and aneurism,” He said.

“Geoff you’ve been going on for months about how you needed someone like the Vagabond on our team!” Michael said, and Ryan raised an eyebrow in interest. This seemed all too easy. They _wanted_ him? Burnie had done a damned good job making him sound good to the media.

Geoff twirled his moustache as he gazed at Ryan, “You gonna take that mask off?”

Ryan shook his head, “No way in hell. I need this mask for anonymity’s sake. If you so much as try to take this thing off, I’ll snap your fingers in half,” He added darkly, and fuck, he relished in Gavin’s terrified expression. It felt all too easy to slip into the Vagabond persona.

Geoff seemed unfazed by Ryan not taking his mask off, and instead shrugged, “Sure, sure. So, do you have any interest in joining a team in the near future? And if you tell me you’re interested in joining the idiot Faunhaus guys, I’m gonna turn this gun on myself.”

Ryan barked out a laugh, “They got a bad reputation?”

Geoff pinched the bridge of his nose, “You have no fucking idea. They are the laughing stock of a city. I really need to train them up a bit if they’re ever gonna work for me.”

“Rest assured, I have no intention of joining Funhaus.”

“What about us?” Gavin pressed eagerly, “You can be the sixth person to our crew! It’ll be great!”

Ryan turned to the British lad and folded his arms, “You seem awfully keen to have me.”

“You’re cool, Ryan,” Gavin shrugged innocently, “With you on our team, no one could even begin to try and stop us take over Los Santos.”

“Yeah, like we don’t have Los Santos in the palm of our hands already,” Michael quipped with an exaggerated eye roll.

Geoff raised a hand, quieting the other men, “Okay, Haywood, I am willing to let it slide that you wandered around this city like you owned it for a few months. _However_ , this is _my_ goddamn city, and if you step outta line, you’re dead.”

“Got it,” Ryan nodded, noting to be on his best behavior.

“You seem good with a gun and that’s something hard to come by in the city. You’d be surprised how difficult it is to find marksman around here,” Geoff glanced at his team, then back at Ryan, “There’s a job we have coming up and a sixth person _would_ be useful. I’ve been looking for weeks for someone fit for the job, and you might be it.”

“I haven’t even asked to be on the crew yet!” Ryan protested jokingly. He was staggered by how easily they were trusting him.

“No question about it. You come on my turf? You’re my property. Either that or you find another city to terrorize.”

Ryan nodded slowly, “Fine. When and where do you want me?”

“I haven’t started trusting you yet. I don’t start trusting someone until they’ve proved themselves to me. Until then, you’re going to have to come on jobs and show us what you’re made of.”

“Understandable,” He agreed.

“I’ll text you when I need you, Adam passed on your details. We’ll call this your probation period, eh?”

Ryan nodded and watched as Geoff backed away towards the car.

“C’mon, boys,” He sang, “We’ll see Haywood another day.”

Jack bobbed his head in acknowledgement to Ryan, before following Geoff to the car. Gavin was grinning goofily at him, and Ray sent him a mock-salute. Michael just met his gaze for a few brief seconds, before slipping into the car next to Gavin. They skidded away just as quickly as they arrived.

  


* * *

  
Ryan’s head was reeling. He got into his apartment and slipped off his mask, before lowering himself into the couch. He was tempted to text Burnie or a member of the LSPD, but knew it would be breaking the rules. For all he knew, the Fake AH Crew were hacking into his phone this very minute to make sure he was who he said he was. No, he had to stay in character and not contact anyone for at least another few weeks.

As Ryan sat on the couch, he contemplated sleep. The sunrise would be in another hour, but he didn’t feel tired. Instead, he mulled over the night’s events, and the five interesting men he had just met. There was something inherently likeable about the oddball group. Ryan couldn’t quite believe Geoff was running the city with idiots like Gavin at his side. He had seemed far too trusting of Ryan.

The others were a little harder to read. Ray seemed impressed by Ryan’s ‘track record’, and he was nervous about proving himself to Ray. He had a decent shooting skill, but he had no practice in shooting actual _people_. In that sense, Ray probably had years more experience than he did.

Both Jack and Michael had been fairly quiet tonight, letting Geoff talk. Ryan had heard only a little about Michael before this – the papers had picked up on his love of dynamite during heists. In contrast, Jack was a dark horse; very little was ever said about him in the media, other than being Geoff’s right-hand man. 

Ryan lay down on the couch, still thinking about the infuriatingly interesting men he’d met. As much as he claimed he hadn’t been tired, he drifted off to a fitful sleep as the sun began to peek above the horizon.

  


* * *

  
Geoff texted three days later. Since the meeting, Ryan had been constantly checking his phone, nervously awaiting his next encounter with the crew. As it vibrated on the table, he jumped in surprise. After three days, he’d been slowly wondering whether Geoff had been humoring him out on the pier. 

Ryan picked up his phone and read the text. It only gave a location and a time. He didn’t recognise the address, but a quick search on google found that it was a few miles out of the city – probably one of their safe houses. Tomorrow at 1pm. Letting out a deep breath, Ryan wondered what Geoff had in store for the “Vagabond”. He glanced at the array of guns that he’d laid out on the dining table, before deciding to take a couple, just in case.

The next day rolled around quickly, and Ryan packed his SMG, a Sniper Rifle and an Assault Rifle into the back seat of his car before heading to the location. It took about twenty minutes to drive out of the city and find the building. The SatNav led him down a winding track until it reached a house in the middle of nowhere. Ryan had missed the turn the first time round, leaving him cursing at the damned machine on his dashboard, whilst it monotonously demanded he turned around where possible.

As he approached the house, Ryan recognised one of the cars in the driveway from the pier, and Ryan parked behind it. As he headed up to the porch, the front door opened to reveal Gavin, who was grinning ear to ear.

“You made it! We’re just planning inside, c’mon Ry!”

The nickname made Ryan stop, blinking at the British boy in surprise. Nicknames were not something Ryan felt were appropriate until they were better acquainted, and yet Gavin was already talking to him like they’d been friends for weeks. He reckoned Gavin would be the easiest to extract valuable information from, when the time came.

He followed Gavin through the front door and into the dining room, where everyone was sat at the table talking. All heads looked up at Ryan, and Geoff clapped him on the shoulder.

“Glad you could make it. So, you’re probably wondering why I called you here?” Ryan nodded nervously, “Well, Ryan Haywood, you will be acting as pest control today.”

Ryan looked at him blankly whilst Geoff continued.

“We’ve had a bit of trouble with a certain gang in Los Santos, and it’s up to you and a few others to take them out.”

Ryan sat at the table next to Michael and said, “What have they been doing?” He placed his hands in his lap, in case they were beginning to tremble from his nerves.

“Dealing cheap, dirty drugs, picking fights with our allies, having a complete lack of respect for the hierarchy around here. We’ve tried dealing with them and they’re a bunch of assholes with a God complex. They’ll keep trying to be top dog, and we need to take them out before they get any bigger.”

Ryan nodded slowly, “Right, so where are they based?”

Geoff rolled out the familiar map of Los Santos and pointed to a small area on the map by the freeway, “Right here. They have a warehouse below the freeway. It should be easy to go unnoticed, the noise from the cars above should mask most of the sound from the guns. We just need to take as many out as possible.”

“Explosives?” Michael asked hopefully and Geoff sent him a withering look.

“Explosives under the freeway? The whole structure will collapse on us. Not to mention the commotion it will make. We’re trying _not_ to get the cops on us, Michael.”

“Seems like a pretty simple job,” Ryan said, trying to feign confidence. In reality, his heart was hammering in his chest and his palms were starting to get sweaty.

“Not a problem at all. We’ll take out as many as possible, then meet back here. Any questions?”

“Actually, yes,” Ryan folded his arms, “Why the fuck did you get me to drive all the way out here if we’re just heading back into the city?” Ryan glared.

“I’m not trusting you with our main hideouts right now. This is one that can be compromised.”

“Did you get lost?” Jack smiled teasingly, “Gavin fucking always misses the turning, and we’ve had this hideout for five months.”

Gavin squawked in protest, and Ryan laughed along with the rest of them at the lad’s expense. Over the raucous laughter, Geoff was desperately trying to retain order within the group.

“Hey, assholes, we have a fucking job to do, sometime today _please_ ,” Geoff said sarcastically, glaring at his team. Ryan looked at the others, who seemed unfazed with Geoff’s anger, and reckoned this was a daily occurrence between the five of them.

“So who’s going with Ryan?” Jack asked after regaining composure. 

Geoff hummed, looking at his crew, “Gav, you stay here and tap into the police radio. Let us know if they’ve caught our scent. Ray, you stay here with him.”

“Aww, why do I have to play babysitter?” Ray whined, resting his head in his hands.

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Gavin cried and Geoff let out an exasperated sigh.

“Ray, if you go out there, you’ll shoot everyone to bits before Ryan even has a chance to fire his gun. Give the guy a chance, damnit,” Geoff deliberated, and Ray grudgingly conceded. Geoff turned to Michael, “Michael, you and I will be back-up. Jack is designated driver.”

“Roger that,” Michael replied, his smile vanished and was instead concentrating on the map on the table, working out good vantage points. The freeway, however, blocked most of the building they would be heading for, leaving them essentially blind until they arrived at the location.

“That’s that, then! Let’s get ‘em!” Geoff clapped his hands together and suddenly there was a rush of movement as everyone headed to the door. Ryan felt uneasy, but knew that this was for a greater cause. Besides, he was killing other gang members - _drug dealers_ \- they deserved to die. 

Taking a deep breath, Ryan shakily stood from the table to follow the rest of them out of the door. He was seriously considering whether this whole ‘undercover cop’ thing was a good idea. Burnie had offered him no training; he’d been plunged into the deep end and expected to survive. Now he was surrounded by renowned criminals who would not hesitate to murder him if he stepped out of line. He hovered in the doorway when Ray appeared beside him.

“You okay, man?” He asked, blinking owlishly at him through his glasses.

“Uh, yeah. Just need to head to the bathroom before we go,” Ryan lied, and Ray pointed him in the right direction.

Locking himself in, Ryan walked to the sink and ran cold water. His heart was racing and his breaths were coming too quick and short. Slipping off his mask, he splashed himself with the water, and he gasped at the sudden iciness on his face. Straightening up, Ryan stared at himself in the dirtied mirror. His pupils were blown wide from the adrenalin and his skin had gone ashen with nerves. 

_Pull yourself together, you’re no good to them if you freak out,_ Ryan berated himself silently.

Flushing the toilet, Ryan put his mask back on and exited the bathroom. Everyone was waiting for him in the car and he quickly went to his own vehicle to grab a few of his guns, before sliding into the backseat alongside Michael. Jack started the engine and they were off. Ryan watched as Gavin waved frantically from the porch, and Ray slinking back into the confines of the house.

As the car sped off down the track, Ryan was starting to wonder whether he’d made a terrible mistake.


	3. Chapter 3

Ryan wanted to be sick. His stomach churned uneasily, and the movement from the car wasn’t helping. Luckily his mask shrouded the obvious fear in his face, but Ryan was still consciously aware of his heavy breathing. His palms were slick and clammy, and he could feel beads of sweat starting to roll down the side of his face.

He kept quiet as the other three started to talk among one another. The conversation flowed easily, with Jack and Michael teasing Geoff relentlessly. They all seemed so relaxed, despite the fact they were heading to a gang territory to murder dozens of people. The words washed over Ryan; he was vaguely aware of them mocking Geoff’s moustache, but Ryan was too caught up in his own inner turmoil that he found himself unable to speak.

Suddenly, a question was directed at him.

“You got any facial hair under that mask? C’mon, Haywood, back me up here,” Geoff whined, and Ryan froze for a moment, having not followed the conversation.

“Er, not really,” Ryan admitted, “Nothing akin to that moustache. I’m not sure how you evade the cops with it; they’d spot you a mile away.”

“See!” Michael crowed, “Ryan agrees with me. That moustache is going to wind you up in prison one day.”

“Jack’s beard is just as bad,” Geoff sulked, “You’re just jealous because you can’t grow facial hair.”

Michael reached up to stroke his smooth chin, grinning smugly. Ryan watched them, bemused. Their conversation was slightly lifting his nerves. 

The subject soon changed as Geoff grabbed four earpieces from his pocket and passed one to each of the crew.

“Gavin should have one already back at the house, so he’ll let us know if any cops catch wind about this operation. Keep an ear out for anyone in trouble; we’re a team here, Haywood, and our team comes first. If someone’s injured, we abort the mission. They are far more valuable than some dumb gang. You hear me?” Ryan nodded mutely, “Good.”

It took another fifteen minutes to pull up at the gang territory. The street was shrouded in shadows from the freeway blocking the sunlight. Grabbing his gun, Ryan slipped out the car with the other three, feeling nervous again. 

This was it, this was the day he would become a murderer. 

Geoff turned to Ryan and clapped him on the shoulder, “I’ll be watching you, Haywood!” He smiled sinisterly, and Ryan’s heart slammed in his chest. 

Jack stayed in the car, on the lookout for anything suspicious. Ryan, Michael and Geoff surrounded the base, and Ryan chose a good vantage point to shoot at the gang members.

There was a large warehouse that was bustling with people whom Ryan presumed were the gang members he had been instructed to murder. Rationally, these people were criminals and were performing illegal acts, so they probably deserved it, but that didn’t stop his hands from trembling as he lined up his shot. They likely still had a family, children who would eagerly wait for them to come home, a partner who would anxiously call their phone over and _over_ again. In one slight movement of his finger and they’d be gone forever. It all seemed so abrupt.

“Everyone ready?” Geoff’s voice came from the earpiece, jolting Ryan out of his troubled thoughts.

“I’m in position,” Ryan replied, unwavering. He needed to act confident, even though his whole body was screaming otherwise.

“Ditto, I have eyes on the targets,” Michael’s voice came through.

“You know the plan, boys,” Geoff replied, “Good luck, Haywood. Fire away.”

The first shot presumably came from Michael. Ryan couldn’t help but jump from the sudden noise and commotion down at the warehouse. He froze, his finger hovering over the trigger. There was a flurry of uproar through his earpiece, and Ryan forced himself to take a deep breath. No one had noticed him yet, giving him an advantage.

He realigned his gun and pressed the trigger. His first shot missed, but the rounds came so fast that bodies soon collapsed as his bullets sliced through them. It was a strange experience to watch your bullet end someone’s life so easily. Gritting his teeth, Ryan continued aiming and shooting. After the initial panic, it suddenly became all too easy to forget these were people’s _lives_. Suddenly, it was as though Ryan was in automatic; his mind blanked out and his body did the work aiming and shooting. When Ryan was no longer thinking of the lives he’d ended, the job became far simpler.

The gang members soon realized what was going on and went onto red alert. Their guns swivelled around their camp, trying to gage where the attackers were coming from. Ryan ducked behind the pillar of the freeway, hoping no one had spotted him. He peeked around the corner, watching as the gang members were aiming for another area. He could hear Michael whooping with glee in his ear, and Ryan couldn’t help but laugh hysterically at the situation. A week ago he’d be horrified at the thought of being caught in this situation, and yet here he was! On a murder spree with some of the largest criminals in Los Santos.

Adrenalin pumped through Ryan’s veins as he delivered more shots. His whole body felt on fire from the thrill, and Ryan was too busy in the moment to feel guilty. He could somehow understand why this behaviour became addictive in criminals; there was something oddly satisfying about delivering a headshot.

_Christ, Ryan, don’t become as bad as them,_ he reminded himself. This is a job, and killing is a necessity. You don’t have to _enjoy_ it.

Several minutes passed with Ryan ducking for cover every time shots came his way, before they took out the rest of the gang members. Michael and Geoff had helped considerably; the gang had been large – larger than he’d expected. Some of the members had escaped on motorcycles, but they’d managed to kill the majority.

“Job done!” Geoff called, “Let’s loot their shit and get outta here.”

Ryan met with the other three at the main warehouse and begun rifling through the crates, finding dozens of weapons and wads of cash. His whole body was still trembling, but this time it was from adrenalin and excitement than the nerves. The hard part was done.

“Looks like their drugs trade got them pretty far up the ladder,” Jack commenting, thumbing through the cash, “Good job we caught them early. With this amount of money they could’ve hired dozens of mercenaries.” Geoff hummed in agreement, bagging up the goods and slinging it over his shoulder.

After raiding the warehouse, they headed back to the car. The adrenalin surge was wearing off and guilt was starting to creep into Ryan’s mind. It had been too much of a rush back when they’d been shooting that he’d closed off his mind; he’d done his job, and later he would dwell on the consequences. Taking in a deep breath, he turned to Geoff.

“How’d I do, boss?”

Geoff let out a bark of laughter, “Boss? Damnit, Haywood, are you trying to butter me up?”

“Might be,” He grinned nervously, “So did I make the cut?”

“You delivered some pretty good shots out there. Seems like you’ve had some good training to have such a steady hand.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes, “That didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ll be in touch, Haywood,” Geoff winked.

The drive felt far more relaxing than on the way there. Now that Ryan had essentially completed his mission, the tension had eased away. He let the conversation between the three of them lull him as Jack drove them back to their base.

When they pulled up at the house, Gavin and Ray were waiting on the porch to greet them.

“How’d you do?” Gav asked, “I can’t believe no one heard the commotion and called the cops. You lucky sods.”

“Piece’a cake,” Geoff replied confidently.

Ryan hovered on the driveway, wondering whether to get in his car and head back to his apartment. It would be useful to get closer to the team, but he had no excuse in staying any longer. However, Ray seemed to make his decision for him.

“Haywood,” Ray called, and Ryan turned, “You play videogames?” He asked.

The question puzzled Ryan, “Well, I guess so?” 

Ray’s eyes lit up, and he was soon being dragged into the house to play on their Xbox. It was almost laughable to see some of the greatest criminals in the city playing Mario Party 8. Ryan had always had a certain knack for video games, however it became very clear that Ray trumped everyone in the room. Judging by the yelling, it also appeared Gavin was utterly terrible at videogames. His squawking and shouting nearly made Ryan break down in a fit of laughter.

The more they played, the more the tension left Ryan. His distressing thoughts from the day dissipated as Gavin died _yet again_ in Worms. He found himself smiling and laughing with the others, and he even got so far as to teasing Gavin with the rest of them. He figured Ray had invited him to play so they could see what kind of person he was when he wasn’t on a job, and in return, Ryan could see a slice of their life outside of work.

It occurred to Ryan that these five men were his enemies. For a few hours, Ryan had been considering them as acquaintances, but the harsh truth hit him like a ton of bricks. Soon enough, he would be leaking valuable information to the LSPD about the Fake AH Crew. There was no friendship to be created here – Ryan would make sure of that.

He glanced over at Ray and Gavin, who were sharing an armchair due to the couch being taken by Ryan, Geoff, Michael and Jack. Gavin kept accidentally elbowing Ray in the ribs, making him shout in surprise and lose the game, and Gavin would guffaw at his mistake. However, the shouts were not meant maliciously. The way they looked at each other, with a knowing twinkle in their eyes, told a different story.

There was something strange about this crew. They all seemed inseparably close – especially Gavin, who appeared to have no understanding of personal space – and Ryan couldn’t help but wonder how a criminal gang could create such a strong bond. No one knew where the Fake AH Crew came from, or how Geoff built his empire so quickly and efficiently, but he was starting to realize that perhaps a close-knit gang worked in their favor. 

Ryan caught himself joking with the others on many occasions, and he soon found himself with a lapful of Gavin, who had taken an interest in the newcomer. His hands went to touch Ryan’s mask, and Ryan found himself shooting his hand up and grabbing Gavin’s wrists tightly, glaring into his eyes.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” He whispered threateningly, watching as Gavin immediately retracted his hand in surprise.

“I wasn’t gonna take it off!” He protested, “I was just touching it.”

“That sounds weird, Gav,” Michael chuckled, “You don’t go round touching people’s faces, do you?”

“I touch _your_ face,” Gavin stuck out his tongue.

“That’s a bit different,” Jack piped up, and Ryan watched the entire exchange, amused.

Gavin harrumphed and folded his arms like a petulant child.

Ryan glanced at the clock and was surprised at how late he’d stayed. It was probably time to take his leave. Standing up, he groaned as he stretched his aching limbs.

“What’re you doing?” Gavin asked, staring up at Ryan.

“I believe I have overstayed my welcome.”

Gavin whined – literally _whined_ like the puppy he was – before trying to think of excuses for Ryan to stay.

“We have bevs later! Won’t you stay for bevs?”

Ryan scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “Well, seeing as I don’t drink all that much, I think I’m going to pass on the offer.”

“You don’t drink?! Damnit, you’re as bad as Ray!”

Ryan glanced over at Ray, who was watching him with a smile, “Teetotal for the win!” He yelled, raising his hand for a high-five. Ryan felt a little awkward, but he returned the high five, chuckling as Gavin continued to whine.

“But, you can always see _us_ get drunk!”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you’re a pretty annoying drunk,” Ryan glanced at the others, and got a raucous of affirmative noises, “So I think I’ll pass tonight. Maybe next time, eh Gav?”

Gavin pouted but nodded.

“Jesus, Gav, chill out. You’ve known him for a total of two days and already you’re becoming clingy. Let the man leave already,” Michael said, patting Gavin on the shoulder.

“Is he usually like this with newbies?” Ryan asked quizzically.

“You should’ve seen him when he first met Michael!” Geoff roared with laughter, “Michael has a few… _anger_ issues. Gav was lucky he didn’t get a broken nose!”

Gavin had the decency to look embarrassed, before grinning widely at Michael. 

“You’re my boi now, aren’t you Micool?” Gavin crowed, and Michael just rolled his eyes and slung his arm around Gavin’s shoulders.

Ryan smiled, before finally leaving the house.

“I’ll be in touch!” Geoff called from the living room, and Ryan nodded before made his way towards his car.

Once he got back to his apartment, Ryan felt at a loss. He had no friends or colleagues to speak to, especially being under the strict rules not to contact anyone in Liberty City. He reclined on the couch and was already starting to feel a pang of loneliness. Ryan had never struck himself as a person who could easily get lonely; he lived a solitude life back in the city, dedicating his life to work. However, he had surprisingly enjoyed today, and it was nice to feel part of a group.

Ryan shook himself. It was wrong to think like that; he should not get attached to a group of men he will end up betraying. At the end of the day, they are _criminals_ who murder innocent civilians. There is no excuse for that sort of behavior.

Sighing, Ryan tried not to think about the eventual day the men would find out he was part of the police. The utter trust that Gavin displays was already making his chest ache. Gavin was like a hyperactive puppy, and for all Ryan’s talk, he didn’t actually mind how clingy he was. It was nice to feel wanted once every so often. Today had been the first close physical contact Ryan had had in months, and it felt _nice_.

The others were still fairly closed books, but Ryan expected that. They wouldn’t want to spill all their secrets to a newcomer. 

Mind whirling, it was only now, when Ryan was away from the crew, that the reality of what he’d done today hit him. Today he had taken people’s lives, and afterwards he’d played videogames with criminals as though it was nothing.

Ryan felt sick.

He’d ended people’s lives and he hadn’t even stopped to think about it. He wasn’t even sure _how many_ men he’d killed out there, and that thought bothered Ryan. How much further would he have to go? When would it go too far? During the shootout, he’d desensitized himself from the carnage, but now he felt shaken and rattled. The crew had grounded him for a few hours; distracting him with videogames and jokes.

Now Ryan was alone in his apartment, he had no one there to stop him from falling apart.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something I'm trying. This is very much a WIP I hope to update regularly. If anyone has any good plot twists or ideas to implement in the story, feel free to comment below. Enjoy :)


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